


A Hell of a Mess

by ivefoundmygoldfish (melonpanparade)



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonpanparade/pseuds/ivefoundmygoldfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing quarters with Merlin is proving to be hell in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hell of a Mess

_0830 hours._

He has a bloody meeting with Arthur scheduled for 0830 hours, and he’s late. And, of course, a gentleman does not _run._ But there’s nothing saying that a gentleman cannot ascend staircases two steps at a time—well, there probably is, but he’d like to remain blissfully ignorant in regards to that matter for as long as possible, thank you very much. With that in mind, Harry hurries up the stairs, fuelled by the trepidation and anxiety thrumming through his veins. He pauses just before the large mahogany doors to the dining room, taking the opportunity wipe his clammy hands on his trousers before he raises his hand and raps sharply on the wood. 

“Enter.”

“Sir, I—”

Arthur waves away the feeble apology Harry has prepared, instead gesturing for the newly inaugurated Knight to take the seat to his right.

“I was wondering whether we’d have to recruit another Galahad so soon,” offers Arthur, once Harry is seated. He smiles at the younger man, yet the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I should hope not, sir,” replies Harry, treading carefully.

“If your results during the selection process are any indication, I don’t believe that there will be a need for that any time soon. You’ll make a fine addition to Kingsman, Galahad.”

“I am—honoured,” says Harry, unsure where this conversation is going. He doesn’t have to wait long; Arthur appears to be done with small talk for now.

“As you are already aware, all Knights are assigned quarters at HQ. Unfortunately, renovations to the wing in which the previous Galahad’s quarters are located need to be made before you can move in.” Arthur leans forward in his chair, covering one hand over the other. Rays of sunlight filter through the room’s windows and bounces off the gold band of Arthur’s ring. “The renovations will take approximately six weeks.”

“I live in a flat within commuting distance to the tailor shop,” offers Harry.

Arthur shakes his head. “Our security teams need time to prepare your flat. The moment you joined Kingsman, our enemies became your enemies, and we are obligated to keep you under our protection. The Knights are the face of our organisation, and as a result, you are also the most at risk.” Arthur pauses, giving Harry time to take in the information before pushing forward. “Furthermore, the majority of the next six weeks are an integral part of your development as a Knight. Even though you’ve successfully passed the selection process and the training involved with it, there is still a lot about Kingsman you’ll need to familiarise yourself with: colleagues, internal workings, protocol, et cetera. You may even be sent on a couple of lower-risk missions to assist and observe.”   

“Alright then. What’s the catch?”

“You’ll be sharing quarters until yours are ready.”

That doesn’t sound too bad. After all, for the entire duration of the selection process, he slept in the same room as his fellow candidates. And aside from one particularly loud snorer—and he’d felt a little guilty for being incredibly thankful when Loud Snorer had failed to pass one of the challenges—the arrangement had been adequate.  

“So, who’s the lucky person?”

“Merlin.”

“Merlin,” repeats Harry, coming up short when he can’t match a face to the name. “I don’t believe I’ve met him.”

“No, I don’t think you have. You would have remembered him otherwise.” The smarmy smile Harry is beginning to associate Arthur with is back. “His eccentricities ensure he is rather—unforgettable.”

Harry frowns, and not for the first time, he wonders what he’s gotten himself into by joining Kingsman.

“Is there a problem, Galahad?”

Snapping to attention, he replies dutifully, “No, sir.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, Lucan is waiting outside to direct you to your new quarters.”

 

* * *

 

Unforgettable, Arthur had said. While he hasn’t met Merlin yet, he doesn’t think he’ll be forgetting the sight before him any time soon. Harry squeezes his eyes shut, irrationally hoping that something will be different when he opens them again, but his new quarters remain unchanged—messy. Incredibly messy. To the point where he can see more clothing and blankets strewn across the floor than actual flooring.

And if there’s anything that he can’t stand, it’s a messy room.

There’s no sign of his new roommate, so Harry tucks the room key into his pocket, and then heads towards the empty bed and desk pushed against the wall. He sinks into the chair, taking the opportunity to glean more information about this Merlin by cataloguing the belongings in the room.

Messy, but that was evident as soon as he opened the door.

Tall, if the trousers thrown over the back of the other chair is any indication.

Harry’s gaze falls on the large bookcase in the corner of the room, next to Merlin’s own desk, which is cluttered with papers and empty mugs.  

Well read, apparently, especially in programming languages.

Mindful of the items haphazardly left on the floor, Harry inches towards the bookcase to examine the titles in closer detail.

“Oh, you’re here already?”

Harry spins around, coming face to face with his new roommate, who is standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

Clad in a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Merlin brushes past him. Harry follows the movement, watching Merlin bend down to gather the fallen blankets and clothes and forcefully throw them on his bed.

“I was cleaning up, but then I got distracted,” says Merlin, by way of explanation. After wiping his hand on his towel, he stretches his hand out towards Harry. “I’m Merlin.”

 _And handsome as fuck,_ Harry’s mind supplies traitorously, continuing his mental list from earlier.

Swallowing thickly, Harry clasps Merlin’s proffered hand. His mouth is still dry, and it’s only years of practice that allows him to recite his name without making a mistake. “Harry Hart.”   

Upon realising he’s probably held onto Merlin’s hand for longer than is considered proper, Harry lets go, fishing about for something to say. And before he can help it, the words tumble out of his mouth, unbidden.

“You should put something on. It’s—”

_Distracting._

Clamping his mouth shut just in time, Harry frowns, thinking of a way to get his foot out of his mouth this time. “You’ll catch a cold that way,” he finishes lamely.

“Right.”

Merlin turns away, scrounging about in the pile of clothing on his bed until he emerges with a shirt, trousers, and underwear in his hands. Without any warning, Merlin reaches for his towel, and Harry barely manages to tear his gaze away in time, but the image of Merlin’s body is already ingrained into his memory.

“I—I’m just going to use the loo,” rasps Harry, quickly making his escape into the bathroom.

After ensuring the door is locked behind him, Harry flips the toilet cover down and sits, sighing heavily.

Only to see Merlin’s black boxers on the tiles, taunting him.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and inhales deeply. Just another thing to add to the list of things he won’t be forgetting any time soon.

Six weeks has never seemed longer. 


End file.
